Deal or No Deal
by Simply Lily
Summary: So, Chuck thinks he finally won Blair’s Waldorf’s elusive affection? That she is now so devoted to him that she expects fidelity and endless adoration? Ha! Think again. Blair knows what she’s gotten herself into, and she comes prepared. Post 1x18. C/B


"What are you up to

**Disclaimer: **Oh, please. Like I would ever impose a hiatus. However, _I _wouldn't have thought of the season ending – which I have to admit I found brilliant. It was like a slap in the face, but _such_ a good one. Love this show, wish it were mine.

**Title: **Deal or No Deal

**Pairings: **Chuck/Blair, twisted as ever.

**Spoilers: **1x18 – Much 'I Do' About Nothing. Takes place a few hours after The Finale.

**Summary: **So, Chuck thinks he finally won Blair's Waldorf's elusive affection? That she is now so devoted to him that she expects fidelity and endless adoration? Ha! Well, think again. Blair knows what she's gotten herself into, and she comes prepared.

**Note: **Ever thanks to **gleechild** for betaing what she _thought_ was the next chapter of Repressions. I was planning for it to be, before realizing I'd be messing with Cannon in a story that follows Cannon. Therefore, I bring you this as a stand-alone (probably) and hope you like it!

**-**

**Deal Or No Deal**

**Spotted: And they say Paris is the city of love.**

**-**

After dinner, Chuck Bass, ladies and gentleman, found himself with a tugging desire to talk to Blair. He hadn't contacted her after his rather rude message but he assumed she went back and waited for him. _Even ruder_, said a voice in his head that strangely sounded just like Ann Archibald.

Chuck tsked. His father really took him off track. It was wrong of him to mistreat his girl so, especially after spending an entire week wooing her the old fashioned way (i.e. – with many gifts and hardly any physical contact). A fear of commitment was no excuse for bad manners.

He made a mental note to replace those flowers he had originally bought and chucked away with new ones, bigger and more impressive. Some chocolates too… and maybe even a teddy bear… of sorts. He was still easing into the gifts thing, obviously.

As it was, he had some apologizing to do.

He hit number 2 on his speed dial (a gesture that had pleased her, as if it had any importance. Who really organized their speed dial by order of importance? It was just about pressing a single button and then _send. _But he wasn't about to complain when she climbed into his lap and kissed the living daylight out of him) and smirked as he waited for her to answer.

"Chuck Bass, what a surprise," her voice came alive, ringing in his head. She sounded smoldering and enticing. He pressed the button calling for service, intent on having his limo ready to go so that he could devour the goddess he snagged for himself. He was officially over forced celibacy.

"Hello, gorgeous," he drawled, smirking lazily. "Miss me?"

"You're a bit late, aren't you?" she teased.

Yeah, there was definitely bitterness there. But Blair was hot when she was bitter and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. It was as if he hadn't spent a hot afternoon of tossing and tumbling around sketches of his room. Suddenly it was Blair and nothing but Blair. His father could screw himself. Chuck was seventeen and _Chuck Bass_, which meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

An hour ago he wanted the decorator; now he wanted his girlfriend.

His _girlfriend_, okay? He didn't mind saying it anymore.

"What are you up to?" he asked, hoping to hear she was unengaged at the moment.

Blair chuckled from the other side of the line, sending shivers up his spine even from thousands of miles away (that he didn't know separated them, the poor bastard). He actually missed her, it was unbelievable. "Well, that didn't take long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he pouted.

"It took you but a whole week to become possessive," she said with a hint of fondness. "I gave it a month, but you never cease to surprise."

_Huh_. He really _was_ being possessive. He'd have to watch this unnerving need to know what Blair was doing at any given time. It was dangerous and usually didn't lead to good results. Not to mention, he wasn't monstrous enough to _not_ admit that it was somewhat hypocritical of him, seeing how _he_ was actually the untrustworthy one.

Blair never lied; _he _was the one who made an art out of it. Blair just chose which information to disclose and with what intonation.

But Chuck didn't want to think about this right now, or ever. "So, ready to take off to romantic and heavenly Tuscany?"

Again with the patronizing chuckle. "Chuck, _sweetheart_, I was ready to take off hours and hours ago."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said easily, hardly the type to spew out apologies like the little bitch everyone apparently assume he was bound to become. "I was… detained."

He heard her tell someone "Would you excuse me? This is private" in this tone that dripped of sweetness and authority and made him uneasy. Something didn't feel right. Who was that? Serena had left already, that he knew. Whoever it was (a man, it sounded like) agreed vigorously and he heard shuffling and possibly… the sound of a belt being unbuckled?

This made absolutely no sense.

"Blair?" he asked cautiously. "Where are you? I'll pick you up."

It sounded like she was smirking. His stomach was dropping to lows he hadn't known existed. "That'll be a little difficult," she chuckled. "Considering the miles and miles of ocean separating us."

Chuck straightened in his seat abruptly. "What was that?"

"Please tell your father the new upholstery is _marvelous,_" she said sweetly.

Chuck frowned, "You're on the jet?"

"You didn't think I'd wait all night, did you?" Any resentment she might have felt, it was covered by a thin layer of brittle sarcasm and an even thicker layer of fake cheer. "I have a week in Tuscany and I plan to enjoy it. You're welcome to join in, of course, if you ever get the chance."

Oh, he was _planning_ to, all right. This perfect gentleman crap was exhausting, not to mention frustrating. He had held off sex with what could only be defined as celestial assistance, but it was time to end it. A minute after he saw her she would be naked, regardless of the circumstances or location.

He smirked flirtatiously though she couldn't see him. "And what will you be doing all by yourself?"

Her smirk mirrored his by the sound of it. "Oh, don't worry. The Bass enterprise offers plenty in the area of entertainment."

Now, Chuck knew somehow that she wasn't talking about the casinos. Suddenly he wasn't so amused anymore. "Such as?"

"Must we be crass about it?"

"If you don't mind."

"I do mind, actually," she snapped. "May I ask, what exactly _detained_ you, anyway?"

His jaw was carved from stone. He _commanded _himself not to shift uncomfortably like he had something to hide or be ashamed of, and said simply, "Traffic."

Blair laughed, actually sounding amused. "Traffic? I thought your father was coming in late."

Chuck's shoulders slumped. _Damn. It._

_Busted_. But how could she possibly know? Was she just pissed that he ditched her? Well, it was nothing some chocolates couldn't solve, and a nice long evening in the hot tub. "I'm sorry, Blair," he said, mostly out of obligation. Maybe the Amelia thing had been stupid. She wasn't even _that_ good. He could have been drinking champagne with Blair on his lap in a private spot on the jet – away from the marketing team or whoever Bart assigned to the trip.

Her grin dripped of delicious vindication. "Don't be sorry, Chuck. You're not expected to be perfect."

That comment was weird but he was distracted. Something clicked in his brain. _The marketing team_. What was it about the marketing team? His mind was reeling. He had met this guy once - was it Jeffrey? Brian? His first thought was, _this guy is Nate's long lost brother_. And now he was on a plane with his girlfriend. What was wrong with that picture?

"Blair…" he started warningly.

"Yes?" she chirped.

He slumped in his chair, at a loss of words. There was no way to ask her if she was cheating on him with one of his father's workers without sounding utterly ridiculous.

At his silence, Blair's eyes turned cold enough to solve global warming. "Chuck, why didn't you show up?"

_No comment_.

"If you can't say it, you're not old enough to have it," she taunted him cruelly.

Chuck sighed, "Blair, she was… it was nothing."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Blair…" he tried again, though he had no idea what else to say.

"Chuck, I was waiting for you," she interrupted, no longer playful. Her voice was ever-so-slightly terse but he still picked up on it. Every word she said sounded like thunder in his ears. "I was willing. I believed you." Gone was the know-it-all bitch, to be replaced by the vulnerable girl he dreaded. But a moment later her voice turned steely again. "But I guess you're not ready, which is fine. But why should _I _be expected to be perfect when you're not?"

"Blair…" he was almost pleading now. He couldn't even apologize. All he could thing about was _Blair_ and _no _and _please._ There was a sharp ache in his chest he hadn't experienced since the night of the ball.

But she was relentless and she wasn't listening. "I guess I'm not ready to give up my perfect prince for a guy who'll stand me up on a New York roof without a moment's hesitation."

What could he say? _My father freaked me out. It's not you, it's me. A leopard can't change its spots_. They were ridiculous excuses and she deserved better. Not to mention, she could throw those words right back at him. The only thing he could say was, "I'm sorry" and mean it this time.

"Don't apologize," she said softly. "I'm not mad. I'm not even surprised. I know you; I know you'll never change and I don't expect you to. You can be yourself with me, as long as I can to." If only she knew that that was the worst possible thing she could have said… his own words to his father viciously thrown back at him. But she wasn't even done. "I am, however, looking forward to enjoying Tuscany, and I'd like for you to be there."

Chuck sighed. She _still_ didn't believe he'd come? "I will, but…"

"There are a lot of pretty girls here," she marked cheekily.

He tasted copper in his mouth, the telltale sign of bitterness. "How lovely. And for you?"

Her tone was no less bitter. "Ben's sticking around, obviously."

"Good, then he can enjoy the girls. Because I guarantee you will not be available," he finished, trying his best to sound flirtatious, as if this conversation hasn't shattered his-seldom-heard-of heart. Like he could even concentrate on stepping out when he constantly had to worry about _her_ doing the same.

"I hope so," she said, sounding genuinely affectionate for the first time since they started talking.

Chuck perked. Maybe there was hope yet?

"But in the meantime, there's a restaurant I've been _dying_ to see for years."

His face fell. Maybe not. "You're not actually gonna start… _dating_ the guy, are you, Blair?"

"Going on a date or two isn't dating," she reproached primly.

He couldn't believe it, he was being a jealous boyfriend. He could hardly remember that decorator and his time with her. All he could see in front of his eyes was red. A striking shade of red, like Blair's lipstick when she was feeling insecure and wanted to 'pop' at any cost. "You're not gonna sleep with him as well, are you?" he snapped, feigning disinterest. "It won't kill you to wait more than 24 hours every once in a while."

Nice one, Chuck. Call her a slut; that'll endear you in her eyes for sure. Last time had worked splendidly, hadn't it? Besides, opening the floor for this kind of accusation would _really_ damage his case.

He could almost _hear_ her eyes darkening, her lips pursing. It was the only way he knew she hadn't hung up on him. But how could he apologize for what had to be the tenth time without losing? How could he still keep his righteous anger? It was too late; he pushed too far.

A moment later, Blair spoke again. "Oh, I _probably_ won't sleep with him," she whispered. "I'm a lady and he's a gentleman. Only on the third date, if at all. So, if you get here soon enough…"

"I'll be there tomorrow," he snapped, even if it was unlikely that he'd get there by tomorrow. He was annoyed that she was baiting him and succeeding at that. He was riled and it was probably just what she wanted. He couldn't prevent that magical first date, but so help him God, he _will_ prevent the third. "Just don't…"

"Like I said," she breathed cruelly. "I probably won't. We'll eat, we'll dance. It'll be totally innocent. I'll just be wishing you were him the whole time."

He froze. Hell, that stung.

"See you soon," she drawled before hanging up.

Chuck looked at his phone without seeing it. How did she always do this to him? He had been so smug, so pleased with himself. He was going to have it all – Blair and whoever else stroked his fancy at the moment – and now he was back to having nothing.

He punched a few numbers angrily. "Yes, this is Chuck Bass. How soon can you get the chopper here?" He listened gravely. "Can't it be sooner? Okay, thanks, just get here as fast as _humanly possible_." He hung up angrily and tossed the phone aside.

Damn her; she _had_ to have known. The chopped would get there in _two hours_, they said. And then only God knows how long it'll take to get a flight or a jet. And then the ten hours flight. She had to have known he'd spend it _all_, every second of it, with the mental image of her dancing, flirting, being swept off her feet. And how reliable was her third-date promise? What if she got carried away? She had said _probably_. How vindictive was she feeling? How charming was this Ben guy, anyway?

He knew he was being a hypocrite. Maybe sleeping around wasn't worth Blair's malicious revenge. It was definitely not worth her disappointment; and worse, her dismissive apathy.

Blair didn't believe he could change. Granted, that was her best quality, as he claimed not long ago. But damnit, it wasn't _supposed _to be. Wasn't that what a girlfriend did? Made you feel like you were worthy? She had just assumed he ditched her for some girl, without any proof. And she had been right, but it still hurt. What was her problem? Couldn't she see that he was trying?

Would she forever run off with every Nate that came along?

Would he always bed every attractive girl in his path?

Maybe he couldn't expect her to change if he couldn't.

Maybe she was right, maybe he was incorrigible.

Maybe they could be happy, in this little arrangement she concocted.

He smiled slightly. It was just like her to turn their relationship into an elaborate strict plan.

Yes, maybe it could work.

And then he imagined Blair having a candlelight dinner with that dumbass from marketing and his stomach turned. He imagined them dancing, his hand resting on her lower back, just a little lower than necessary but not enough to be crass. He felt sick. She was _his_. He was second best to _no one_. Or at least, he shouldn't be.

He _would_ come back from Italy a changed man, alright. He'll make sure she never has the chance or the time to be swept off by some _perfect gentleman_ because he would become the best damn _perfect gentleman_ to ever have existed. He'll _reinvent_ the term, for heaven's sake.

-

Blair snapped the phone shut and sank back in her chair. She had known dating Chuck Bass would be a complicated nuisance so she wasn't shaken. The last week had been nice (and mind-numbingly boring), but it reeked of _temporary_. The moment she received that text, she knew. The penny dropped. It was admirable that he had lasted a whole week, considering.

She'd done enough crying over Chuck Bass. Now she was ready to play his own stupid game.

Who knows, she might actually enjoy herself at last.

She waved Ben back delicately and marveled at the way he practically pounced in the seat next to her. She had missed being in this much control; she missed knowing exactly what the guy wanted from her and what he would do if he thought he had a chance to get it.

All men were the same; they wanted her to surrender. Be it by sex or by giving them her heart. She had made both mistakes once and she was done, thank you very much.

She'd never put a line on the drinking, scheming, flirting, or whatever Chuck did when he was being _Chuck Bass_. But there had to be a line.

If Chuck wanted to sleep around, he had to know there would be consequences.

"Champagne?" Ben asked charmingly, offering her a tall shimmering glass.

Almost as shimmering as his straight white teeth.

Blair had lied. Princes didn't exist. The world, in her eyes, post Gossip Girl, was split into four groups: men like her father, who liked other men and wouldn't play games; men like Nate, who were unapproachable because they never realized what they wanted; men like Chuck, who wanted her but weren't willing to give anything in return; and finally, men like Ben, who wanted her and were willing to stomp over their own dignity to get her.

Needless to say, she had decided which type was her favorite.

The most important part was to keep all of those bastards from ever having her heart. Being a fan of melodramatic gestures, Blair went as far as to snatch the golden heart out of Nate's sweater and attach it to a golden chain that was long enough to hide away from prying eyes.

She was adamant about removing it when she was with Chuck but she forgot once, a few days ago.

"_What is this, now?" he asked with amusement, fingering the locket that dangled between them, exposed and vulnerable. "How very junior high."_

_Blair snatched it away from his prying hands and quickly took it off. "It's nothing," she said curtly and bent over to kiss him. It was not a sign whatsoever. If anything, it was a warning. Don't let Chuck in again. Remember what happened last time_. _Remember that he's always gathering ammunition against you._

"You know, I would never dream of letting such a beautiful girl like you out of my sight," Ben murmured.

_Of course not_, Blair thought, _because she'll forget all about you within minutes, horny ass_.

A flirtatious smirk spread across her lips. "Some people just don't know a good thing when they've got it."

Her phone vibrated.

**Won't you reconsider?**

Blair almost laughed out loud. Was he kidding? Reconsider? In exchange for what, exactly?

She raised her gaze back to connect with Ben's. He practically sucked in a breath. It was so much fun to have a new puppy to play with. She used to be so good at this before Nate and Chuck started messing with her head.

"Could you do me a favor?" her voice was no higher than a breathy whisper.

Ben leaned closer to her. "It'll be a pleasure."

She actually batted her eyelashes, "Tell the pilot that his turns are too sharp?"

Ben laughed like it was their private joke. He got up and bowed slightly, bringing her hand to his lips. "It'll be my pleasure," he drawled.

Blair looked after him, her chest swelling with pride at the situation she had concocted. Truthfully, she was a bit curious about what it would be like to sleep with someone who was so desperate for it. Would he stop caring a moment after or even before? Would he try to make it worth her while? Say what you will about Chuck, but he was always… attentive. What about this guy?

Then again, she promised to wait until the third date. Thought why she should feel obligated to keep that promise was beyond her.

She glanced back at her phone's screen and her smirk widened. She quickly typed back a response.

**You've had your turn, I'll have mine. I'm willing to consider a clean slate afterwards.**

A moment – and not even that – later, her phone vibrated again.

**Deal.**

**-**

So… what do you think? Should I stick to my day job?


End file.
